


Where's Claire?

by Deenerann



Series: Fleabag Snippets [4]
Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, God is a cockblock, Sisters forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 07:01:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deenerann/pseuds/Deenerann
Summary: Fleabag finds out something incredible and Claire is finally going to do something about it.





	Where's Claire?

**_Fleabag_ **

I’m staring at the test when Claire comes home. She takes one look at me, sitting on the couch holding a white stick in my hand, and drops her purse.

“Oh, God. Is that what I think it is?”

I nod, my thoughts in so much turmoil that I can’t form words.

“It it _his_?”

“It has to be. I’m always a stickler for condoms, but I wasn’t with him. I wasn’t _thinking_ when we… well, when he stayed over. I haven’t slept with anyone else since then, either. It’s definitely his.”

“How many times were you guys _not thinking_ when he was here?”

I flush hot, thinking back. “God, like five or six. We hardly slept.”

“Well, that will certainly do it.” She sinks down next to me on the couch. “What are you going to do?”

I don’t hesitate. “I’m keeping it.”

“Are you sure? You’re not exactly—well, you’re not in a very good place lately.”

“I’m keeping it,” I repeat. “It’s part of him.”

“Are you _sure_ ,” she asks again.

“Would you keep Klare’s baby?”

She gives me a look. “Fair enough.” Sighing, she takes the test from my hands and stares at the blue lines. “Are you going to tell him?”

Oh God.

“I can’t,” I stammer, panicking. “I couldn’t do that to him.”

“He has a right to know.”

“Of course he does, but he _can’t_ know. What if he chooses me—chooses _us_? Then he’d have to leave the church and he’d eventually hate me and everything would go to shit.” I’m crying now. “Even worse, what if I tell him and he still chooses God?” I shake my head. “I can’t.”

Claire watches me, her eyes narrowing. “You’re going to do this alone?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Not alone. I’ll have you.”

Her eyes tear up. “Of course you will. You’ll always have me. That’s not the point.”

I lean over and rest my head on her shoulder. “I’m scared shitless, Claire.”

She squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll sort it out. Maybe this is exactly what you need.”

I laugh. “I doubt it. Is it bad I’m actually happy about this? In-between terror, of course.”

She shakes her head. “No.” Another squeeze on my shoulder. “You know what else?”

“What?”

“You’ll love this baby just as much as him. More, even.”

“God, I hope so. I’ve got so much love inside me, and I don’t know where to put it anymore.”

She half-laughs. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re already full of my love. It’s probably oozing out of your pores. It’s the excess I’m talking about.”

“It will get better. I know it will.”

“He said nearly the same, but he was wrong.” I touch my stomach. “Especially now.”

Claire stares at my hand and sighs. “I’m going to have to spend less time in Finland.”

I sit up. “Absolutely not! I’m barely two months along. Go live your life. I’ll be okay. We have plenty of time to figure out how the hell to raise a baby.”

She nods. “This is a good thing, right?”

“Yes.” I’m more certain of it now. “Besides, if nothing else, at least I’ll finally get bigger tits.”

**_Claire-_ **

_Six months later_

I stare at the confessional. Should I do this? Maybe he’ll recognize my voice. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, but there’s always that possibility. I take a step backward and then shake my head. It doesn’t matter. If he figures out it’s me, then it’s meant to be.

I’m in a _church_ , after all. Miracles are supposed to happen here every day.

I reposition the hat I’m wearing. It’s a ridiculous thing, black w/ a large veil hanging down, shielding my face. I look like I should be robbing a bank, but I don’t want him to recognize me through the window of the confessional.

She’d never forgive me if he did.

At least I’m making an _effort_ to stay covert. Whatever happens beyond this is in God’s hands.

He needs to know.

I’m not going to tell him outright, of course, but I want to see what he thinks about the situation. I need to know before I make any additional decisions about my sister’s life.

Taking a deep breath, I pull open the curtain and step inside. It’s dark and musty, with a faint light coming from the other side.

What is it I’m supposed to say?

Oh, right.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been, well I’ve never done a confession before, actually. And I don’t really want to talk about my sins today.”

When he finally speaks, he sounds almost amused. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about your sins, what brings you here today?”

“I’m worried about a loved one.”

“Ah. What’s going on?”

“She’s pregnant. Due any time now.”

“And that has you worried?”

“The father isn’t in the picture.”

“Oh. So, he doesn’t want anything to do with the baby?”

“He doesn’t even know she’s pregnant. She never told him.”

He’s silent a beat. “Does she not want him in the baby’s life? Is he not a good person?”

“Oh, he’s probably the _best_ sort of person. He’s just a little confused about his path in life.”

“Confused how?” He sounds curious.

“Before she found out she was pregnant, he made a choice. A choice between her and—his other life. He didn’t choose her.” Am I being a little too on the nose? He’s silent for so long after my comment that I’m starting to worry maybe he’s figured it out.

 _Fuck_! She’s going to murder me.

Finally, he speaks. “His _other_ life?”

“He’s—uh—he’s in a long-term relationship.”

“Oh. Is it serious?”

“I’d say he’s pretty committed.”

“Does his partner know he strayed?”

“I’m pretty sure his partner knows everything.”

“And they’re okay with it?”

“I have no idea. I don’t really understand their relationship. I’m more worried about my sis—about my loved one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, she’s pregnant and alone, for one. And, she still loves him. It’s been months since she’s seen him, obviously, but she still loves him just as much as she did in the beginning. Now she’s having his baby and he still doesn’t know. I think he should.”

“Why do you think she hasn’t told him?”

“She’s afraid he’ll feel obligated to leave his life to be with her and the baby, and he’ll never forgive her for forcing it on him.”

“Nothing is forced. If he chooses her and the baby over his other life, it will be because he wants to. Not because she forced it on him. After all, plenty of men _don’t_ make that choice.” He sounds bitter.

“Why do you think that is, father? Why do some men not make that choice?”

“Fear.” His answer is quick and absolute.

“Fear of what?”

He sighs, and when he speaks, his voice is sad. “Fear of the unknown. Fear of making the wrong decision. Fear of fucking everything up. That if things worked out, then it would be brilliant, but if it didn’t, what would they have to go back to?” He pauses. “Uh—that sort of thing.”

I take a chance. “You sound like you’ve got some personal experience there, father.”

He laughs, the sound harsh. “Something like that. But, we were talking about your loved one, not me.”

I ignore him and press on. “Have you ever been in love, father?”

He’s silent. “I’m supposed to love one thing. Only God.”

“And has that always held true for you?”

He sighs, the sound weary. “No.”

I sit up a little straighter. _Now_ we’re getting somewhere. I need to figure out how to question him more without him shutting down.

“How were you able to make yourself stop loving this other person?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“For my loved one. If what you did was successful, maybe she can try the same thing. To help her to stop loving this man.”

He snorts. “I don’t think I can help.”

“She needs your help, father. Aren’t you supposed to offer help to _all_ those in need?”

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to help. It’s that I can’t because—” He lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “I still haven’t figured it out.”

I’m triumphant, but I try to keep it out of my voice. “Are you saying you still love this other person?”

“I’ll always love her.” He sounds sad.

“But you chose this life instead?”

“Why are we still talking about me?” His voice is annoyed now.

“I’m trying to understand the man she loves. Why he made the decision he did. I think maybe _you_ can help me understand.”

“Why do you want to understand him? I’d think you’d hate him, given what he did to your loved one.”

“I’m not perfect, father. I don’t expect anyone else to be. I’m sure he had his reasons. I’m curious as to what yours were.”

“I already told you that.”

“The fear bit?”

He laughs quietly. “Yeah. The fear bit.”

“What if things _didn’t_ go to shit? What if they worked out? I thought love was supposed to be enough.”

“In my line of work I’ve discovered more often than not that love is _never_ enough.”

“What else is there?”

He laughs again. “ _There’s_ the question. The eternal problem. Love is never enough, but at the same time, it’s all there is.”

God. He sounds miserable. How can they both be so miserable and stupid about this? They _love_ each other, for fuck’s sake!

I stare up at the ceiling and shake my head. _This is your fault_ , _God._ _You’re being an asshole_. _Do something about this_.

“What if it were you, father?” I ask.

“What if _what_ were me?”

“What if you were the man in this situation? Imagine the woman you love is pregnant and having your baby, but you don’t know a thing about it. What would you do?

He has no idea the truth of what I’m actually telling him. I _love_ this confessional shit! It’s cathartic to get it all out in the open and still somehow remain anonymous.

He’s silent for so long I think he’s done talking to me, but he finally speaks, his voice hoarse. I think he might be crying.

“That’s a hell of a question.”

I nod. “It is. What’s the answer?”

“I’d be terrified.”

“Understandable. Then what?”

“Then—“ He sighs. “Then, I don’t know.”

“Bullshit. You know. What’s your gut telling you?”

“I’m in a _church_. I can’t answer that.”

“God will forgive you for being honest.”

“Will he? What if my honesty went squarely against the vows I’ve made to him?”

Well, _hallelujah_. I think I have my answer.

“So, should I tell this man, father? Should I tell him she’s about to have his baby?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Would you want to know?”

“Knowing would make everything worse.”

“Probably. Or it could make everything better. Would you still want to know?”

There’s a sniffling sound. He’s definitely crying. Crap. I’ve made a priest cry. I glance up at the ceiling again. _Sorry, but this is definitely your fault._

“I don’t know.” His voice is more closed off now.

I sigh. He’s shutting down on me.

“Well, I’m just as confused as when I came in here. I still don’t know how to help her.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“And I’m sorry you’re still filled with so much fear, father. I don’t need a penance. Thanks for your time.”

I pull back the curtain and leave the box, hurrying out to the front of the church before he can stop me.

Bursting out into the bright light of day, I scurry off down the street.

I’ve learned one thing very clearly.

He still loves her.

Too bad I have no idea if he figured out who I was.

I stop and stare up at the sky. _Do something. Make this right._

There’s no answer. No shining light or angels singing. I have no idea if I did the right thing. I guess now all I can do is wait and see what happens.


End file.
